


(the love you gave me) nothing else can save me

by ashley_in_the_know



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashley_in_the_know/pseuds/ashley_in_the_know
Summary: Vax gets himself into serious trouble with the Clasp. Luckily, Vex always has his back





	(the love you gave me) nothing else can save me

“Never judge someone based on how they earn their money,” Elaina used to tell them, tucking hair behind an ear or tweaking a nose. “So long as they come about it honestly, how they got it doesn’t matter.”

She tries to remind herself of that now, examining her reflection in the vanity mirror. Long hair falling to her waist in loose curls, her more elven features played up by more makeup than she’s ever worn, the sheer nightdress that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Forgive me, brother,” she whispers. He’d made her promise once, when they were half-starved and desperate for money, that she’d never sell herself for him.  _I’m not worth it, Stubby._ She’d scowled at that.  _Of course you are, you dummy. But, yeah, alright, I promise._

There’s a knock at her door, and her heart rabbits in her chest. She smooths her dress as she crosses the room, fixes a sultry smile on her face and prays that it masks her nerves. She’s only in control here if they can’t sense her fear.

She opens the door to the hulking man that Madam Vernal has sent her way. He stumbles inside, half drunk already, his meaty hands immediately going to her tits. “Shut the door first, dear,” she says sweetly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes until his back is turned.

If he thinks anything of the grizzly bear dozing in the corner, he doesn’t voice it. He crowds into her, one hand groping her ass, while the other clumsily works at the laces holding her dress together. “’m payin’ a pretty penny for you,” he slurs, his sour breath washing over her face. “Better get my money’s worth.”

_It’s for Vax_ she thinks as she leads him to her bed.  _It’s all worth it if I can save him._

Her brother fucked up a job for the Clasp, cost them an absurd amount of money, and now he’s being held as a prisoner until she can pay off his debt.  _If_ she can pay off his debt. She has a week to pay off half of what he owes, or they’ll slit his throat. Not that they want to kill him, according to her liaison. He’s good; good enough that they’re giving her a chance to fix this rather than killing him outright.

It’s what keeps her going through the next five days and nights, knowing that her brother’s life is on the line. And it’s not terrible, not really. Most of the clients that get sent her way are nice enough, even if their performance leaves something to be desired. Trinket’s presence is usually enough to deter any funny business, and she has one of Vax’s daggers, just in case. (One client learns this the hard way when he attempts some kinky magic shit that she is  _not_ prepared to deal with. He gets a knee to the groin and a dagger held at his throat, and she’s still shaking an hour later when Vernal hands over what must be half the contents of his coin purse.)

But it’s still not a job that she’s cut out for, she finds. She’s too trusting, Vernal tells her, too naive, despite the measures she takes to protect herself. She should be wary of the white haired boy that comes to her on the fifth night and promises her every penny that he has if she can only help him forget. She should turn him away, or at least ask him what it is that he wants to forget.

Instead, she brushes a hand through his hair and tells him, “I’ll do my best, darling.” She lets him kiss her, lets him leave marks where others were never allowed. She surrenders control to him, heedless of the voice in her head that sounds a lot like her brother calling her an idiot.

He’s rough the first time, a little clumsy, obviously inexperienced, but making up for it with enthusiasm. She’s still riding the high of a rare orgasm when he reaches his own climax, biting into her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

It’s gentler after that. She kisses away his mortified apologies, and he submits to her whims for the rest of the night. She takes him apart slowly, sweetly, and there are tears in his eyes as he begs her for release. She lets herself fall asleep beside him, and when she wakes, a bulging coin purse is sitting on the bedside table with a note that just reads  _thank you_.

* * *

The Clasp has had him locked up for six days, five hours, and twenty-seven minutes when the door to Vax’s cell scrapes open. He’s getting ready to fight, to make a run for it, when the agent that enters pulls out a ring of keys and unlocks his shackles.

He gapes at his freed hands stupidly. “What the fuck?”

“It’s your lucky day, friend,” the agent says with a chuckle. “Somebody up there must really like you.”

He’s blindfolded and led through a maze of hallways, tunnels, and doors, until he can finally feel fresh air on his face. The blindfold is removed, and he’s standing alone in an alley. He’s still taking stock of his surroundings when he hears footsteps approaching, and his sister’s voice cuts through the noise of the city.

“-flattered as I am, with all due respect, fuck off.”

The Clasp agent that’s escorting her bursts into uproarious laughter as they round the corner, and Vax barely has the chance to rejoice at the sight of his twin before he really  _sees_ her, and his heart sinks into his stomach.

She’s wearing her normal clothes, but her hair is loose, hanging in pretty curls. Even from twenty feet away, he can detect traces of makeup that she never wears, and he thinks he catches a glimpse of bruising along her neck and collarbone. It doesn’t take a genius to guess how she made enough money to spring him from captivity.

But then she’s calling his name and closing the distance between them. They collide, and he hugs her tight, instinctively lifting her off the ground. He buries his face in her shoulder, and his senses are flooded with cheap perfume that doesn’t quite mask the lingering scent of a broken promise.

“What did you do, Vex’ahlia?” he asks, fighting back tears. “What the fuck did you do?”

“What I had to to keep you alive,” she says, and he feels her tears start to soak into his shirt. “I’m not sorry. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

_I’m not worth it!_ he wants to scream, but he knows she’ll brush that off, defiant and stubborn as always. “Were you at least _careful_?” he asks instead.

He feels her nod. “I had Trinket with me the entire time,” she says. “And I borrowed one of your daggers. And I only had to threaten to cut off, like, one guy’s dick, so...”

He laughs in spite of himself. He holds onto her for a few more minutes, eventually pulling back so he can look her in the eyes. “It’s not your responsibility to keep me alive, you know,” he says solemnly. “You’re not my keeper.”

She smiles fondly, shakes her head. “No, but I am your twin,” she says. “And you would do the same for me, yeah?”

He nods. “And more.”

She wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t comment. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s find a nice tavern.” She links her arm through his and starts guiding him out of the alley. “Breakfast is on me, and then I need a bath...or ten...”

It’s the last mention either of them ever makes of it. She doesn’t seem particularly keen on talking about it, and he wants to forget that he ever put her in that situation to begin with. He resolves to do better in the future. To do everything in his power to protect his twin.

It’s the least he can do.


End file.
